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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257062">I Don't Wanna Fall in Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/msouma/pseuds/msouma'>msouma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kliego Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mentioned suicide, Past Violence, Trauma, also drag, but dont worry klaus isnt the one to like it that much, but other than that its just. self indulgent crap, for some reason, no beta ofc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:06:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/msouma/pseuds/msouma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Diego knew how to keep his word. A few days later, he was back with great news - Klaus would be released, but on some conditions. First, if there’s another fight he gets himself into, his sentence will be doubled. Second, and thankfully, last, he needed to do a favor for the police, or, as Diego preferred to say, for him.</p>
<p>Klaus wasn’t in the position to disagree.</p>
<p>So here he was now, standing in Diego’s shitty and dark boiler room with a wig on his head. With his personality, most people would assume that Klaus would enjoy this. Boy, were they fucking wrong. Boy, was Diego fucking wrong, that bastard.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Kliego Week 2020 Day 4 - Fake Dating/Marriage AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kliego Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kliego Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Don't Wanna Fall in Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i have two things to say about this:</p>
<p>1. yes this is completely self indulgent AND inspired by the tv show lucifer. who cares!!! it was fun to write<br/>2. klaus in drag, while cute in theory, is horrible in practice</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Klaus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head snapped in the direction of the familiar voice. Of course it had to be the damn cop. Whenever he was trapped in a cell, it was always Diego fucking Hargreeves unlocking the bars with a special little key and letting him out with grumpy mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not that they knew each other. Klaus was just lucky enough to get stuck in prison overnight for more than once, and Diego was unlucky enough to constantly work a shift at those times. A stroke of inescapable fate perhaps. Maybe a joke from up above (he could bring it up to Her one day). By now they knew each other on a name basis, but not much more than that. Good enough for Klaus, really. Other than a hot bod and a pretty face, Mr. Hargreeves had absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>going for him. He had that shitty personality in mind, of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The deadpan gaze bore into his own, and Klaus gave a shrug in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, intense,” Klaus responded with just as much coolness to match Diego’s before giving a painfully wide smile that bordered on a grimace. He winced, then, quickly realizing that his split lip didn’t react nicely to the stretching. “So what if I am? What are you gonna do, Mr. Don’t You Dare Call Me Diego? Perhaps…” A gasp, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His body moved forward, hands clinging onto the cool bars. His lips parted for a split second. His tongue stuck out, licked over the pained lip, and then his mouth was shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could dig himself into a deeper grave by speaking, Diego’s low voice reached his ears, “no, actually. You fucked up pretty bad, Klaus. Every damn time, I got you the fuck out of here because I didn’t think you’re that bad.” The anger in his voice made Klaus blink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diego cared. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you beat up a guy to the point of serious fucking injury. There’s no way outta this one.” Diego stated. There was an unspoken fury laying deep inside of that uniformed body. His composure was on point, other than the hand that gripped one of the bars tightly. But his face was twisted in a never before seen fashion - eyes darkened, brows and lips both in a tight line. If Klaus’ freedom didn’t depend on the man on the other side, he would absolutely take this expression as an invitation for a good fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alas.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait… what?” The words, once overshadowed by Diego himself, finally settled in the poor guy’s mind. Klaus’ raccoon-like eyes widened enough for the green to glint in the dark room, his brows knitting together at the highest point possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hurt him this much?” He let out a quick breath. “Will he press charges? Am I going to actual prison?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you care about?” Diego then asked, eyes narrowing. It sent a shiver down Klaus’ spine, but definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a threatening manner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I supposed to care about that shit-heel? If so, then please forgive me, oh God above!” Every one of his words was drenched in unnecessary drama. Klaus threw his hands up in the air to keep the act up. “Can I go now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Diego shook his head with a sigh, then tapped his hand over Klaus’ in an unusually comforting manner. Klaus gave a small smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’ll see what I can do to help you at least a little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego knew how to keep his word. A few days later, he was back with great news - Klaus would be released, but on some conditions. First, if there’s another fight he gets himself into, his sentence will be doubled. Second, and thankfully, last, he needed to do a favor for the police, or, as Diego preferred to say, for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus wasn’t in the position to disagree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So here he was now, standing in Diego’s shitty and dark boiler room with a wig on his head. With his personality, most people would assume that Klaus would enjoy this. Boy, were they fucking wrong. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boy, was Diego fucking wrong, that bastard.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can snap your fucking neck right here and now, hide your body under the mattress. No one would suspect a thing,” Klaus grumbled as he fixed the ginger wig on his scalp, applying a good layer of glue to set it in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s threatening a police officer. I could get you arrested,” Diego shot back with a satisfied smirk on his face. While he was right, Klaus was allowed to have dreams. No matter how bad they were at times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus repeated Diego’s words in a mocking manner as he began working on the makeup part of this new challenge while the glue dried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Life has thrown many odd tasks Klaus’ way, so this was definitely not the weirdest thing he has done. But it sure was uncomfortable. He was asked to go undercover with a fucking cop, which was ridiculous in the first place. But of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of fucking course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Diego would refuse fake dating a man (even though Klaus wouldn’t call himself that, necessarily). No, Klaus needed to be a woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was not going to prison. Not today, not tomorrow, and no other day after that. Even if that meant shaving off his polished facial hair and applying copious, uncomfortable amounts of makeup or putting on fake tits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to put on tits?” He asked as he layered on the color corrector over the parts where his facial hair was more prominent. While he wasn’t a person who favored modern makeup (he liked some eyeliner and gloss, maybe mascara), he knew how to do it. The perks of having a sister.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Diego crossed his arms over his chest while he thought, eyes tracing Klaus' frame from behind. It lingered on his legs for just a tad bit too long, but Klaus didn’t say a thing. He just smiled at his mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. There’s plenty of women without uh… big… um…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tits,” Klaus interjected as he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know you’re so shy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>detective!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Detective?” It was now Diego’s turn to roll his pretty eyes. “I’m far from that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you rather me call you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sheriff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then? Doesn’t have the same ring to it. But it is kinda sexy.” Klaus waved his </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘hello’</span>
  </em>
  <span> hand towards the back of his head to gesture to Diego. The other snorted, shook his head, and Klaus was left grinning as he worked on his foundation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe this wasn’t so bad, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus looped his arm through Diego’s, palm resting on the back of his forearm. Long fingers tapped against the suit jacket the other wore. Partly because he was a tad bit nervous, partly because there was so much temptation around. Just look at that giant ballroom, full of tasty treats, tastier people and tastiest alcohol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look too fancy for this party,” Klaus murmured as he leaned his head closer to Diego’s. The strands of his wig laid on the other’s shoulder while green eyes flicked up to observe his face. Everyone else here looked proper, yes, maybe even posh, but not formal. Klaus wouldn’t call his own attire formal, either. He was allowed to bring in his own wardrobe, which essentially meant that he was wearing a long pencil skirt, a loose, but tucked-in shirt to take attention away from his chest, and a long black jacket that almost reached his ankles. The only thing he hated wearing was the heels, which were supplied to him by the head detective or whatever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” Diego sighed, “I didn’t really know what else to wear. Couldn’t show up in casual wear, too suspicious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this isn’t?” Klaus arched a plucked brow, lined eyes narrowing ever so slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” a woman, most definitely the event’s organizer, interrupted with her strong southern accent, “I haven’t seen you here before. Maybe your child is new? Or are you the new teacher?” Her gaze indicated she was talking to Klaus, not Diego.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, acting was always his strong suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a fake smile to match her own, Klaus spoke in a higher pitch, “yeah, I am! Ah, I’m sorry for not introducing myself to you before this.” He reached his hand out with a hope that she wouldn’t notice just how manly it was. Maybe he should’ve worn gloves. “I’m Mrs. Hargreeves, and this is my husband, Diego.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no worries, dear! It’s so very nice to meet you, I’m Sissy. Can’t wait until you meet my son, he’s a true wonder.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After shaking the woman’s hand quickly, he tucked it away to his side, directing an expectant look at Diego, so he would follow suit. The mission was most likely not his very first, yet he was so awkward about it. The handshake was full of tension and anxiety, and he barely muttered out a pathetic </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘hi there’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>without a stutter interrupting it. Was Klaus supposed to be the cop here?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgive my husband, he’s not that big on people!” He giggled as he shook his head ever so slightly, some ginger curls flying in his face. Wigs could be so fucking annoying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and you can call me Klaudia…” Diego lowered his arm, grasped onto Klaus’ hand instead. That indicated that their suspect was near… it also indicated that Diego had warm, sweaty hands. How endearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t bother you any longer, Sissy. Though it was wonderful to meet you! I hope we get to sit around after school and chat some time over a cup of coffee, yeah?” He waved a dismissive hand as he winked at her, then moved towards the alcohol table. Diego was tugged along like a puppy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So where is she?” Klaus asked as he took a glass of champagne. While sipping it, his eyes were fixated on the lost Diego. The other was looking for someone in the crowd, and when he found her, so did Klaus. Oh, oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The handler?” He whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, “no, Diego, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know her?” The accusatory question made Klaus shift in discomfort, and he gave a defeated nod before downing the drink and setting the glass back down on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” Diego asked, his eyes now wandering over to him. They stayed on his face for a while as Klaus explained, but then lowered down to his lips. Was Diego really that focused on his elaboration about his drug life, and in that same vein, The Handler herself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Earth to Diego?” He finally asked, then stopped talking altogether. Diego didn’t move for another few seconds before Klaus finally chuckled, which seemed to snap him out of the odd trance. “I get it, you’d love to fuck me in drag… who wouldn’t, and all that. But I’m not interested, so let’s go catch the wicked bitch of the west or whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego huffed, “me, wanting to fuck you? I wouldn’t fuck you even if you were the last person on the world with me.” And were those his cheeks getting redder?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d be lucky to get me,” Klaus commented nonchalantly, “now, get a move on. I wanna get out of these shitty heels.” They were pressing at his toes and crushing his heels. Oh the things he did for freedom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The party went on for an hour more with pleasant chatter from Klaus, who managed to score all the affections with the ladies (seems to be going well for him whether he’s a man, a woman or neither). Diego stayed close, but kept observing The Handler’s mannerisms while Klaus sipped more and more champagne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through the champagne, he began to wonder. Diego did so much for him. He had always gotten him out of those rotten cells, no matter what stupid encounters Klaus got himself into. He had always brought him a sandwich or a donut while Klaus was stuck there. Even now, he was sticking by his side while he could be interacting with others to gain info. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>protecting</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus’ brows furrowed as he turned to Diego, opening his mouth to ask the one question he found to be important. But, the moment came. As short-notice as ever, Klaus was pulled out of the party in a dash, heels barely keeping up with Diego’s pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now?!” Klaus was the one to be dragged like a dog this time, chasing the other while clutching onto his hand. Diego’s hand was much bigger than his own, held the entire mass of Klaus’ own inside of it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or never,” Diego finished the sentence for Klaus, but there was no satisfactory grin on his face as he ran outside of the building through the back entrance. There stood The Handler herself, talking to a younger woman, no older than Diego or Klaus. She was the one to notice the pair, jumping away from the older woman with an angry gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” She asked, then stepped closer in a guarded manner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh…” Klaus laughed nervously. In the dark of the evening, it was hard to recognize her, but now that she was closer, he quickly connected the dots. Lila Pitts, one of the people at the party. He wasn’t quite sure why she was here, she never told, but now it was all clear. “Having fun with my husband?” He quirked his brow as he pressed his hand against his chest. “And… what are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough with the charades, Klaus,” Diego pulled his hand away, pushed the jacket to the side to show his badge. The Handler only chuckled. “You’re under arrest for drug sale and possession. Please hand over the suitcase, and we can make this peaceful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if we </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it peaceful?” Her voice was bitter, yet melodic. Klaus lowered his gaze as to not meet her cold, piercing one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect that from you, Klaus,” she then said, and his head snapped back up. Though before he could defend himself, Diego raised a gun in the air, pushed him behind himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hands in the air! You’re under arrest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.” The woman snapped her fingers, and Klaus felt himself tense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diego, look out-” but it wasn’t him who needed to look out, was it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus was pushed to the ground from the side by no one other than Lila, who appeared there in moment’s notice. Handler’s dogs were always the hardest to deal with. Diego turned around as Lila pressed Klaus to the cold asphalt, hand wrapped around his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go, and catch her, stupid!” Klaus yelled, his hand hitting against Lila’s chin in an attempt to push her away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just fucking go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, Diego decided against protecting him. Klaus wasn’t sure whether to be upset or happy. He chose </span>
  <em>
    <span>upset.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Have emotions ever been a driving force behind a person’s actions? Most of the time, realistically. But it wasn’t the drive of Klaus; a local addict who didn’t do much to earn an honest living, but needed to survive. He cared about being alive, not feelings. So he had always blocked them away, pushed them to the very corner of his mind and worried about them only when he was high out of his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, though, this wasn’t Klaus. It was Klaudia Hargreeves, a new teacher at some sorta prestigious school, and she let her emotions consume her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t fighting Lila, or a criminal that the police, or even Diego, needed to catch. He was fighting all those times he was locked up in dark rooms by his father, he was fighting the memory of his brother’s suicide, he was fighting the world’s hatred and neglect towards him. He was fighting himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he won.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, at least that’s how he liked to call it. His wig was somewhere mangled on the ground, his nose was bleeding, his heels were long gone, bare feet cut up from the pebbles on the ground. His lip was split. Again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Diego had both The Handler and Lila handcuffed, and what could be better than that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, many things, if he was being honest. Like a fucking drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego walked up to Klaus, wrapped a blanket around his shivering shoulders. Maybe some makeshift warmth would suffice for now. He caught himself liking this just as much as he would a drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the police lights, Diego looked somewhat more serious. His gelled up hair had an unearthly shine, the scar prominent on the side of his head. His dark eyes eliminated any trace of those lights, yet had a glint of their own. The suit, although disheveled, looked admittedly sexy on him. But Klaus still laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t look good in suits,” he said with a snort, wiping the slightly dried blood under his nose with his jacket’s sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you look better without the ugly wig,” Diego responded. The smile on his face was heavenly - a mix of relief, joy, and something intriguing. “How will I ever repay you for what you did today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By letting me free, </span>
  <em>
    <span>detective?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Klaus pushed his bloody palm against Diego’s shoulder, then shrugged. Diego rolled his eyes at the nickname, but didn’t protest it nor the sudden print of blood on his clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or… like this.” Klaus paused, and Diego raised a questioning brow. After licking his lips and making sure that there was no trace of that ugly pink lipstick or blood left, Klaus leaned forward. His breath hitched as it hit Diego’s skin. Hand squeezed the other’s shoulder. He gave leeway, in case his target wished to back away. But Diego was frozen, staring at him all wide-eyed, innocent. So that was that, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lips pressed to the very corner of Diego’s, and his eyelids fluttered shut for a split second. It was over as soon as it happened, with a stumble from Klaus’ side, but he had never experienced anything more exhilarating in his life. Diego hadn’t, either, if his expression was anything to go by. He looked baffled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want to get me out on a date next time, just ask. No need for all these charades. Though no promises on me getting in drag again. Actually, I’m just gonna say it right now - I’m never getting in drag again.” They laughed in unison, but Klaus could only hear Diego’s laughter. So hearty, dumb, and adorable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I take you out for a cup of coffee this weekend, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus nodded. “Definitely.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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